Chapter 2: Mycroft's Request

Sherlock stood in front of his brother's office. He sighed and his foggy breath from his lips reached towards the sky and disappeared into the night. He ascended up the slippery stairs and slipped through the doors. He strolled down the empty hallways down to his brother's office. He grasped the door handle when he heard the echoing of distant footsteps and the clicking of a umbrella down from where he just came.

"Mycroft…" he breathed as he turned to see his brother coming down the hall. He stopped at the foot of his office and looked at his brother, deep into his eyes.

"Hello, brother of mine…please come in…" he said with a sly grin. Mycroft followed his little brother inside and slammed the door closed. He walked around to his desk and plopped into his chair.

"Well…I heard about your little incident tonight…with Watson, by that matter…" Mycroft started. "I must say…someone really wants you or Watson dead."

"I'm only here because you asked me to. Now, what is it about this man that you needed me for?" Sherlock demanded."It's late and I promised John and Mrs. Hudson I wouldn't be long. I need to finish a case tonight.

"You're promising John things now? Oh Sherlock, you and your "friend" are..."

"Oh, shut up, like you'll ever get friends to care about"

"I have friends, at the Diogenes Club. You're the one with no friends"

Sherlock fell silent. He looked at his brother and scoffed.

"You think those fools really give a damn about you? They are just there for quiet readingand maybe a brandy At least the friends I have actually socialize" he responded.

Mycroft fell back in his chair, stunned by his brother's remark. Sherlock smirked as he went towards the window. He looked out the window and heard the bongs of Big Ben telling him it was 1:00 a.m.

"Back to the subject" He finally said, "About that man. Someone is definitely after you and we need to investigate on it. It could mean the end of your career…and possibly mine, depending on what he wants"

"I don't do unidentified cases that I know nothing about, especially if they're after me, for that matter."

Well, you're going to do this one because I said so, brother."

Sherlock looked at his brother, taking a sip of water at his desk. He sighed and sat back down into the chair in front of him. "Fine" he scoffed in annoyance.

"Good. Should I show you the way out?" Mycroft asked sarcastically. Sherlock wasn't listening to his brother. He was already halfway out the door when his brother caught up with him. It was starting to snow on the streets of London when they both walked out early that morning.

"I'll get you a cab" Mycroft advised.

"I don't need one; I can walk without you always watching me"

"Fine! Fine." Mycroft hesitated for a minute as his brother started to stroll away,"Oh…and Sherlock…"

"Wha…"Sherlock started as he felt a jabbing pain in his neck. He stumbled back and fell into a cab. His brother shut the door and told the cab driver what to do. As the window was down, Sherlock looked up, drowsily, at his brother.

"Oh, Sherlock…you stubborn boy you. Keep a low profile for now will you?" his brother reminded him as the cab drove away. Sherlock tried to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he was out cold.

As Mycroft watch the cab driver pull away, he called up someone on his phone." Oh, hello John. I surly hope you weren't asleep, Sherlock is coming back now. He might be a little…well…on the drunk side…"